


The Beastmaster

by peterqpan



Series: Harringrove Works [12]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: And kissing him so that's less annoying, Billy's just trying to be HELPFUL, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Steve's LAUGHING at him, Will Byers & Billy Hargrove Friendship, no sexytimes, possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterqpan/pseuds/peterqpan
Summary: Steve comes home to find an intruder in the house.  Luckily, it only requires a phone call to the nerdiest member of the Party.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Works [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624003
Comments: 16
Kudos: 132
Collections: harringrove for BLM





	The Beastmaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fervent supporter of BLM](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Fervent+supporter+of+BLM).



> Something soft and happy for a BLM donation! More info on Tumblr, where I'm platypanthewriter!
> 
> This fic can stand alone, or be read as canon around chapter 9-10 of my fic Strangest.

Steve came home to find Billy’s car in the drive, and the front door standing open—in _January_ _,_ so there was _snow_ blowing in. 

He braked right there in the middle of the street, looking around for Neil Hargrove’s car, or— _or what?_ he thought. _Messed up snow? Bloody snow?_ He craned his neck, but there was only Billy’s car, and footsteps to the door. He’d put the rock back that Steve kept the key under, which meant he _probably_ wasn’t...running from anything. 

All the same, instead of opening the garage door, Steve coasted to a stop next to the curb, and pulled the nailbat out of the trunk. As he sidled around the corner of his house, he stood on tiptoe trying to see inside, and registered the kitchen windows were open, too. He stared at them, then snorted, tromping back around to the front door. _I need therapy,_ he told himself, shaking his head and grinning. _Somebody opens up the house after burning a Poptart or something, and my first thought's 'there’s a serial killer on the loose.'  
_

He was still slow and quiet coming in the front door—which was good, because Billy was kneeling backwards on the couch, leaning over the back, whispering over the phone, having a staring contest with a squirrel.

The squirrel twitched its tail, turning to stare at Steve, and Billy looked up. “Steve’s home,” he whispered, cupping his hand around the phone. “Yeah. Uh, yeah, I’ll tell him.”

Steve had stopped, his mouth twitching as he wondered whether his boyfriend was afraid of _squirrels._

“You’re between it and a door,” Billy hissed, and Steve blinked at him, then rested his bat by the wall, and edged around to kneel on the couch next to Billy. His skin had gone all goosepimply with the windows and door open, and Steve put an arm around him, kissing his neck and inhaling the smell of Billy, safe. “Mm,” Billy nodded, listening. “They _what?_ Rad.”

“Who’re you talking to?” Steve whispered, as the squirrel watched them, glancing around, then wandered over to snatch up a peanut. There was a trail of them, Steve realized, leading to the back door, and he buried his face in Billy’s neck again, trying not to laugh aloud. 

“Will,” Billy frowned. “He says they come in looking for salt. You gotta get a salt lick for the squirrels, Steve.”

“I can do that,” Steve nodded, biting his lips as his lungs tried to burst into giggles. 

Billy gave him a suspicious glance. “...it’s a _Fox Squirrel,_ Steve. They build _treehouses_ to _sunbathe,_ they weave leaves and things together—”

“Huh,” Steve nodded slowly. “That’s pretty smart, for a squirrel.”

“Smarter than you,” Billy grunted, watching it avidly.

The squirrel ate the peanut, staring fixedly at them, and zipped to the next in the weird strobelight motion of squirrels everywhere. 

“So,” Steve struggled to keep a straight face, “—you found a squirrel, so you called Will to ask him about squirrels.”

“We didn’t get _attic squirrels_ in LA! I heard something in your _attic,”_ Billy growled. “I couldn’t find it, so I called somebody _nerdy_ to ask what the hell it was—”

“You lured it down here with peanuts?” Steve stared upwards, wishing he hadn’t missed Billy Hargrove placing a trail of peanuts throughout the house, and hiding around corners, lying in wait for the squirrel. 

“You didn’t want it _living_ in here,” Billy said, glaring, and Steve couldn’t help it anymore, he started snickering.

“Okay, Cinderella,” he whispered, and Billy elbowed him in the ribs, flushing. 

“They’ll eat your _walls,”_ he hissed. “What’d you want me to do, shoot it?!”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Never, no way, not your _awesome treehouse squirrel.”_

The phone made a static-y noise, and Billy pressed it back to his ear. “No, sorry, Steve’s being a—no, it’s still here. It’s probably full. Maybe I should’ve spaced the peanuts out more—” he bit his lip, frowning, and Steve couldn’t help it, he yanked his boyfriend half in his lap, laughing against his shoulder.

“Jesus christ, I love you,” he mumbled, feeling Billy’s skin warm. 

They sat there for another hour, while the squirrel surveyed its new realm, and finally Steve said “I think maybe we taught it houses have peanuts.”

“Shit, yeah,” Billy mumbled, his head against Steve’s chest. “I should go around and put some outside.”

A week later, Steve glanced out to see his boyfriend having a smoke, crouching in the deep snow by the treeline, and he went to the window to squint out. Billy was fiddling with something in his pockets, and Steve realized the dark little shape on the tree was a squirrel. Billy was handing something over to its little squirrel hands, and Steve groaned, profoundly wishing for a camera, and maybe a telephoto lens. When Billy came back in, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and Steve yanked him into a hug, asking, “What you gonna name your new friend, Cinderella?”

Billy laughed, pushing at Steve’s shoulders, but relaxed into Steve’s grinning kisses. He slid his freezing hands up Steve’s shirt, and Steve yelped. “Need to get some more peanuts,” Billy told him. “Think he has a girlfriend. Maybe a boyfriend.”

“Can’t be sure,” Steve nodded, laughing, and leaned in again to kiss his boyfriend’s smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more Harringrove for BLM? =D Contact me on Tumblr at [Platypan the writer!](https://platypanthewriter.tumblr.com/) Subscribe to the Harringrove without everything else at [Unrelated Harringrove Works Series!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624003)
> 
> Also, I lovelovelove hearing from people! Kudos! Short comments! Long comments! Questions! Constructive criticism! Comments as extra kudos! Talk to each other! Talk to me! =D Thank you, thank you for reading this far! Feel free to tell me these boys are dumb, I know, I know they are, it's not entirely their fault but I do agree. XD I try to reply to each one, but if you don't want a response to your comment then please say "No reply please" or "Whisper" so I'll know not to reply.


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